


Telephone consultation

by CactusWren



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: All Dialogue, Post Reichenbach, Thus I refute you-mean-you-can-see-him-too, short-short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactusWren/pseuds/CactusWren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ella Thompson takes an unexpected phone call:  John Watson is going through a crisis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Telephone consultation

Automatically, as she answered the phone, Ella reached for a pen and pad. Even therapists were allowed their coping strategies; taking notes while talking with a client was one of hers. She checked Caller ID, wrote: _John Watson, 9:13 pm._ And then beneath that, _(!!)_ “Ella Thompson,” she said.

“Ella?” The voice on the phone was quiet, shaking. “It's John Watson. I hope I'm not – is this a good time? I'm sorry to bother you at home.”

 _Upset, using delaying tactics,_ she wrote.

“It's just fine, John,” she said quickly. “It's no bother. Is there something you wanted to talk about?” She kept her voice calm, but she was worried. She couldn't remember the last time John Watson had called her personal number. She didn't think he'd _ever_ called outside of office hours. John was one of her favorite clients, but like many depressives – especially men – he had trouble accepting that he needed, and deserved, care and comfort. If he was _asking_ for help, things must be bad.

She heard him swallow. “I – there's a problem, Ella. I don't know what … ” His voice trailed off.

“John,” she said firmly, “tell me what's happening. I'll help you, but I need you to say what the problem is.”

There was a silence. “John?” she said again. “Are you there?”

“I think I'm – oh, Jesus.” His voice was shaking, barely audible. “Ella, I'm ... I'm undergoing a psychotic break.”

 _Crisis._ “John, listen to me. Breathe in slowly – _now,_ John, I want to hear you breathing. In, yes … and now out, very slowly. Yes, good. Again. In … out. Now, tell me what makes you _think_ this is happening.”

His voice was slightly steadier. “It was the one thing I ever wanted from him, the one thing I _asked_ him but it was too late – he's here, Ella. It's multi-sensory. He spoke to me, I touched his coat and I can even smell the tobacco – I don't want this to be happening. Oh please God, _please_ God – ”

_Apparent hallucination. Flashback?_

There was a sound, a rustling as of John's mobile being passed from hand to hand. “John?” she said. “John!”

The voice on the line was new, a resonant baritone, now with the echoic quality of a phone set to “speaker”. “Ms Thompson?” it said. “Or is it Doctor? I never knew.”

 _Stranger on phone –_ She let her own voice sharpen slightly. “Ella is fine. Who is this, please?”

“Ella, I'm a – friend of John's. I've been away for some time, and I need your help: please tell John that I _am_ here, in the room with him. You and I are conversing – I'm speaking, and you're responding. This should be sufficient evidence to convince John that I am not, in fact, his hallucination. Please tell him so, won't you?”

 _Oh fuck. _ She underlined it three times. “John. John, are you listening to me? Whoever this is, he's not from your imagination. I'm hearing him and speaking with him. He's really there with you.”

Silence. “John?” she said again. “Are you there?”

“John,” the second voice on the line said calmly. “If it's possible, I'd much prefer that we get through this _without_ your dislocating my fingers.”

“Ella,” John said after another moment. “Ella. I'm here. Just – ” Another pause, and she heard John going through the steadying breaths she had taught him. “Yes. Everything's fine. I'm sorry to have bothered you. It's fine, it's all fine.”

“You're certain?”

She heard him swallow, but when he spoke again his voice was firm. “Yes. Nothing to worry about.”

She hesitated, reminded herself that John wasn't alone. “I'm glad to hear it. And I'll be seeing you at your next appointment? Thursday, two o'clock?”

“Of course – well, if I can't make it, I'll phone your office number.”

She felt herself frown slightly. “Do you think there's a reason you might not be able to make it?”

John's voice was sharper now, tight with anger. “I can't be sure. I _may_ have to visit an old friend in hospital. He's likely to be laid up with multiple contusions and possible fractures. Talk to you later, Ella. I'll fill you in when I see you next.”

The connection clicked off.

 

 


End file.
